Irreplaceable
by Trn736
Summary: Stan and Kyle end up getting a little more than they bargained for during an afternoon sledding in a bitterly cold Rocky Mountain snowstorm.


"Alright," Stan agreed, wiping his runny nose with his mitten, "One more time and we're going back to my house, okay? We've been out here for like two hours, it's freezing!"

Fresh snowflakes resumed falling from the sky.

"Or we could just go back right now," Kyle suggested, trying to warm his bright red face with the sleeve of his jacket.

"Nope!" Stan laughed, "The last run of the day is always a race to the bottom, remember?"

"Is there a rule we can write in about waiving our normal rules of sledding when it's colder than Antarctica?" Kyle shivered.

"You just don't wanna race 'cause you know I'll win!" Stan taunted.

"No! That's not it…"

"If you forfeit, I win by default!" Stan gloated, "Guess that means I get the first cup of hot chocolate when we get back to my house!"

"Alright!" Kyle grabbed his sled and started the trek through the deep snow back to the top of the hill, "If it'll shut you up…"

Stan smirked as he grabbed his sled and followed close behind.

The two set up on the edge of the long, relatively steep hill.

This particular hill was a favorite of the two boys. Located about a mile west of town in the woods, this is the place they came every time they wanted to sled.

"Ready?" Stan got into position."

"Yeah."

"On three then. One… Two… Three!"

Both boys took a running start at their sled before hopping on and speeding down the hill.

The race was neck and neck until Kyle hit a bit of uneven snowpack and Stan pulled ahead.

Stan reached the foot of the hill first.

"I win! Good race, though!" He smiled as Kyle reached the bottom of the hill.

"Yay… Stan wins like always… Can we go now?"

Stan could sense the bitterness in Kyle's tone, "Don't be a poor sport, Kyle."

"Poor sport?" Kyle turned to his friend, "You always think you're so much better than me when you win every time! The right side of this hill is a lot more uneven than the side you go down all the time… It slows me down! You're not even that good! Switch me sides for once and I'll beat you by a mile!"

Kyle stormed off back toward town, pulling his sled behind, "I don't even know why I agree to go sledding with you… You're so cocky sometimes! I wish my parents were home so I didn't have to spend the rest of the weekend with you…"

Stan stood silent, completely stunned at Kyle's outburst. It took a lot to hurt his feelings, but coming from his super best friend, that did the trick.

He hung his head low. He slowly walked after Kyle, tugging his sled behind.

"Stupid Stan…," Kyle mumbled to himself as he walked, "'We gotta race so I can win'," he mocked.

In his focused state, Kyle deviated from their normal path through the woods. The ground hidden beneath a thick layer of snow suddenly dipped. Kyle fell back into the snow in pain.

"Ow!" He exasperated, grabbing at his right ankle.

Stan watched him fall from a distance.

"Jesus, Kyle!" Stan hurried to his side, "Are you okay?"

"I – I think I twisted my ankle pretty bad…," he sniffled.

"Can you walk?" Stan asked, concerned.

Kyle tried to stand. The second he put pressure on his foot, he yelped in pain.

He shook his head, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Hey…," Stan sat close beside his best friend in the snow, rubbing circles on his back, "You're alright… Just calm down…"

"You just sprained your ankle, nothing too serious," Stan soothed, "I can help you back to my house."

Stan braced himself to pull Kyle up to a standing position with himself, "You ready?"

Kyle threw his left arm around Stan's neck and nodded.

Stan pulled him up, supporting him with one hand gripping the arm slung around his neck and the other hand on Kyle's right side.

"This doesn't hurt too bad, right?" Stan supported Kyle for a few difficult trial steps through the snow.

"N – No…," Kyle's voice trailed off as if he wanted to say something else, "What about the sleds...? They're both yours… If we go like this you can't take them…"

"We can always come back and get them some other time. We know exactly where we left them," Stan offered his solution.

"With the way this mountain snow is supposed to be blowing for the next few days, we'll never find them if you leave them here," Kyle noted.

"So what?" Stan responded quickly, "I can always go out and buy two more – they're replaceable… I care about you way more some dumb sled… My super best friend isn't replaceable…"

Kyle could feel the crushing weight of guilt and regret of what he had said only a few minutes earlier pushing against his chest.

Snow was beginning to fall harder.

"It's gonna be like a blizzard out here pretty soon. We need to get going before we can't see two feet in front of us… Just tell me if we need to stop for a minute, okay?"

"'Kay."

The limp home was a long and grueling trip.

By the time the two arrived at Stan's door both boys were exhausted and soaked from the heavy, wet snow.

Stan was shaking so violently he could barely hang onto the doorknob to get into his house.

"M – Mom…," Stan called, teeth chattering.

Sharon sighed with relief at the sound of her son's voice, "I was getting worried, Stanley! The storm's getting -," she walked from the kitchen into the living room, "Oh my gosh!" She exclaimed at the sight of the boys, "What happened?!"

"K – Kyle hurt h – his ankle…"

"I – I sprained it I think…"

"You boys need to get upstairs and change out of those clothes right now before you get sick and then we can deal with your ankle, Kyle."

She ushered both boys up to Stan's room, helping Kyle climb the stairs.

"Just pile all of the wet clothes together and I'll throw them in the dryer… You boys get changed into something warm," she closed Stan's door.

Both boys threw their soaking wet coats off first.

Then came boots.

Kyle gingerly slipped his right boot and sock off.

"Ouch…," Stan commented at the sight of his swollen ankle.

After they had finished changing into their soft, warm pajamas Stan helped his friend back downstairs.

Though still shivering, they did feel a little warmer getting out of their wet snow gear.

Stan sat Kyle down the long way on the couch; his back was propped against a pillow leaning on the arm of piece of furniture.

Sharon came in a few moments later with two large fleece blankets. She wrapped Stan in one and Kyle in the other before speaking, "Let me see that ankle."

She inspected Kyle's foot.

"That looks like a pretty bad sprain, Kyle… You're going to have to stay off that foot for at least the rest of the weekend… We need to elevate it and ice it right now to stop some of that swelling too."

"B – But it's freezing…," Kyle shuddered at the thought of an icepack.

"I know…," she spoke caringly, "But this is what we have to do… I'll bring you a painkiller for it as well," she propped his foot up on a pillow before walking back into the kitchen.

Stan cuddled into his warm blanket on the far side of the couch, not saying anything.

After returning with an icepack and some medicine, she situated the boys before turning on some cartoon movie they had each seen multiple times.

After about a half hour, Stan was feeling warm again.

Kyle, on the other hand, was still visibly shaking; probably from the ice, Stan thought.

Stan unwrapped himself from his blanket before he stood up.

Without saying a word he draped the extra blanket over Kyle and walked into the kitchen.

Kyle was speechless.

A few moments later, Stan walked back into the living room with a large, steaming mug.

"Here," he offered it to Kyle.

Kyle looked at the mug of hot chocolate with a large marshmallow floating on top, "The first cup is yours, remember?"

"Just take it, Kyle…," Stan replied rather flatly.

Kyle reluctantly took the mug and began sipping at the hot liquid.

Stan fixed himself a cup and returned to his seat on the far end of the couch.

For the longest time, the only noise in the room came from the television.

Kyle studied Stan's face, he looked sad.

"Stan…"

Stan didn't even want to look at him.

"Stan… You know I didn't mean what I said…"

"You sounded pretty serious," Stan spoke, still without looking at his friend.

"I was just cold and tired… I wasn't thinking straight and said something dumb that I didn't mean…," Kyle's tone begged for a response.

Stan still said nothing.

"Stan… Please, I'm sorry about what I said… You're not cocky and you're really good a sledding… I was just mad… And there's no other person I'd rather hang out with than you, dude…"

Stan could sense Kyle's sincerity.

"After what I said to you, I'm not sure why you didn't just leave me out there to freeze to death…"

"I didn't leave you out there because you're my super best friend, Kyle… I know you didn't mean what you said and I'm sorry if I make you feel bad for losing; I don't do it on purpose, I'm just having fun… And giving my best friend some crap is all," Stan smiled as he turned to Kyle.

Kyle smiled as well.

"We don't have to race next time…," Stan offered.

"Like hell we aren't going to race next time. I still need to beat you!" Kyle challenged.

Both boys laughed.


End file.
